Scioto County is at a boiling point over the explosion of rehab facilities in residential neighborhoods. At the latest County Commissioners meeting, frustrated citizens voiced concerns about how Portsmouth has become a magnet for addiction recovery housing—and how some of those leaving treatment end up homeless, adding to an already growing crisis.
“Why Are We the Dumping Ground?”
Longtime resident Joe Brook was the first to speak out.
“I’ve been part of this community all my life,” Brook said. “How did it come about that Scioto County seems to be a deposit for drug addicts? I know they need help, but it’s not helping the community. The other day, I was talking to a widow trying to find a house to rent—good luck when rehab facilities are gobbling up all the properties. Who started this? How did it happen?”
Commissioner Scottie Powell provided some insight.
“Scioto County was ground zero for the opioid epidemic. It started here, and by default, we built up a treatment infrastructure. Then those industries started marketing to other counties, telling judges, ‘Send your people here; we have the facilities,’” Powell explained. “The problem? The rest of Ohio hasn’t built up its own treatment centers, so they keep shipping people to us.”
A County Overrun by Recovery Centers
Powell revealed that, thanks to a new law requiring rehab facilities to register, officials recently discovered Scioto County has over 110 recovery houses—the same number as Franklin County, which has a population of 1.2 million compared to Scioto County’s 72,000.
“This is completely out of balance,” Powell said. “Legitimate recovery facilities support new legislation to regulate the industry because the bad actors are ruining their reputation.”
That legislation—House Bill 58—would increase standards for rehab centers and limit how many can operate within a ZIP code based on population. Powell, Scioto County Sheriff David Thoroughman, and Prosecutor Shane Tieman have all testified in Columbus in favor of the bill.
Citizens: “They’re Getting a Free Ride”
For residents like Brook, the imbalance isn’t just about numbers—it’s about fairness.
“Housing is paid for. Counseling is paid for. There are privileges they have that my friends can’t afford,” Brook said. “They get to hang out at the park playing basketball. Why aren’t they picking up trash? Where’s their skin in the game? If there’s no lasting benefit, it’s a poor investment. I know that sounds harsh, but this is a burden on our community.”
Commissioner Bryan Davis confirmed the concerns.
“When I first took office, there were only two providers. Now? Rehab centers are buying up every available property, leaving families with nowhere to go,” Davis said. “And the worst part? Other counties are shipping their problems here. Their overdose rates are dropping because they’re sending their addicts here while ours keep rising.”
Davis also pointed out a disturbing financial reality:
“It’s immoral and unethical that the State of Ohio is spending more on recovery patients than on veterans or senior citizens in nursing homes. We’re paying more for addiction treatment than for those who fought for our country. That’s flat-out wrong.”
Not Everyone Sees It the Same Way
Josh Lawson, a recovery professional and former candidate for County Commissioner, warned against scapegoating recovery patients.
“We can’t pit one part of our community against another,” Lawson said. “Many in recovery are veterans. Yes, the system needs fixing, but we need leaders who tackle this issue without feeding ignorance and stigma. Many people in recovery do contribute positively to our community.”
No Easy Answers—But a Fight Ahead
Commissioners made one thing clear: The county’s hands are tied.
“There is nothing in the Ohio Revised Code that gives us power to control this issue,” Davis said. “People say we’re funding recovery facilities—that’s false. But we’re fighting to fix the system.”
And according to Commissioner Cathy Coleman, the problem isn’t just rehab centers—it’s what happens after treatment.
“The homeless population is growing,” Coleman said. “They come here for rehab, get released, and stay here with nowhere to go. Years ago, we did research and found that the number of out-of-county people in our shelters far outnumbered local residents. It’s heartbreaking, and something has to change.”
What’s Next?
While everyone agrees addiction treatment is necessary, Scioto County leaders are demanding a solution that works for everyone—not just the rehab industry.
“We’ve been screaming for help,” Davis said. “And now, we’re finally getting attention. But this has to stop. It’s unsustainable.”
For Davis, the real solution goes beyond policy.
“I’ll say it out loud: The answer is Jesus.”
With a system struggling to keep up, a community frustrated by the burden, and state leaders only now beginning to listen, Scioto County finds itself at a crossroads. The battle over rehab housing is far from over—but residents are making it clear: It’s time for real change.
